


A Warrior's Lodging

by AmadeusMachina



Series: Adventures of Amadeus Mac'hina [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Nonbinary Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmadeusMachina/pseuds/AmadeusMachina
Summary: A few of the Scions decide to pay the Warrior of Light a social call for once... at their only official address.
Series: Adventures of Amadeus Mac'hina [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165676
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is written from Alphinaud’s point of view!
> 
> Though not accurate to my current in-game progress, Amadeus here is represented as being maxed out/current on all classes (to level eighty).
> 
> The player character was always clutching at their chest when the Light was trying to overwhelm them, so I figure that there must have been a sort of pain epicenter there. I headcanon not only that there would have been significant scarring from this experience but that it would manifest in much the same way as the scar of someone struck by lightning for both aesthetic and physiological reasons.
> 
> The segment with the minions was definitely inspired by Mightier over on Tumblr!

How… quaint.

I’m not sure what I expected, but I am certain “alpine flower shop” was not the image I had in mind for the legendary Warrior of Light’s Free Company house. It certainly felt a little out of place in the middle of the Goblet, though perhaps less so than the many Hingan abodes I glimpsed in its vicinity. 

I suppose I should have expected as much given that this Free Company was reportedly dubbed “The Greenhouse”. Perhaps they were all botanists? I recalled Amadeus having gone on gathering trips several times during our travels together, often in order to bring back various spoils for our allies.

“Are you certain this is the right place, brother?” 

Well, it was encouraging to see I was not the only one who had my doubts.

“Certainly, Alisaie,” I replied. “Tataru was quite confident that this was Amadeus’ only formal address.”

“Not a house of their own? A mere apartment?” G’raha Tia’s voice was filled with astonishment. 

“What with their gallivanting, I imagine it would be inconvenient to own anything larger,” Y’shtola responded, placing a hand on her hip. 

It seemed the only logical explanation, though I was certain that they had the resources to care for a house or mansion of their own should they desire it. It certainly was not a matter of finding somewhere to put down roots: they were well-established the world over nowadays, and indeed could call many a place “home”. 

“Well, there’s no use in us simply standing here and gawking. We might as well go in.” Alisaie strode towards the door. I followed behind, examining the yard, when I heard a “kweh” from behind me, to my left.

“Why, it’s Justice!” The chocobo chirruped at me once more as I approached to give him an appreciative pat, taking care not to disturb the other birds in the stable. His feathers appeared to have been recently brushed, as they were considerably fluffier than normal, with a healthy sheen. “Amadeus must be nearby. They rarely travel far afield without him and they’re very selective about who takes care of him.”

“Ahem.” I turned. Alisaie appeared perturbed at the distraction, so I sighed and quickly headed for the door.

A receptionist greeted us as we entered, and when we asked after Amadeus Mac’hina, she gave us a gentle smile.

“Ah, you just missed them. Officer Mac’hina just headed into the city proper on an errand about a half bell ago, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Shall I show you into their quarters in the meantime?”

“Th-their quarters?! While they’re gone?!” G’raha’s ears flattened against his head at the thought of such an invasion of privacy.

“It is quite alright, Scion. If it is too discomforting, you are of course welcome to wait out here, but, being celebrities, you might welcome the privacy their apartment would afford you. I assure you, they are well-equipped to welcome visitors,” the Au Ra answered soothingly.

“Ah, very well then. And their room…?” I trailed off.

“You can’t miss it. The “Traveler’s Chronicle” is apartment number fourteen, on your right before the second crossing.”

“Apartment number fourteen… how very appropriate,” Y’shtola mused as we headed for the door to the hall’s additional chambers. Just as we were told, it was quite easy to find, and I pushed open the unassuming wooden door quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

The sweet scent of Ul’dahn incense wafted through the air as we entered the cozy quarters. To my left was a tidy bathroom, to my right an elegantly divided floral sanctum.

I sharply inhaled when, upon rounding the corner of the partition, I glimpsed the benevolent features of Lord Haurchefant Greystone gazing down at me from a beautiful portrait hung above a miniature Hingan garden. He appeared to be peeking through the branches of two flowering Doman Dogwoods. 

I don’t think Amadeus ever recovered from losing him, I thought, recalling how frighteningly frigid and distant they had been the moons after the Vault. Anyone with eyes could see… well, that they had eyes for each other, but I harbored suspicions about whether either had ever actually acted upon such feelings. 

Further ahead was a lofted living space, built around an elegant chandelier like that in the Observatorium. The lower half included a kitchen and a full-size orchestrion. I could only assume the relatively concealed upper half acted as a bedroom.

As we walked further in, I could not help but marvel at the other features Amadeus had managed to fit into their tiny abode: a padded painting nook next to the garden and a parchment of the Elemental Wheel, a seating area overlooked by an ink depiction of what appeared to be four kami, and a sort of hybrid library and dining space hugged by a neat stack of tomes, a mannequin, and a standing star globe. Y’shtola and G’raha, interest piqued, began to examine the collection of books on the stair shelf, probably as curious as I was about what exactly the slayer of eikons would choose to read in their precious spare time. 

Their living space included, to my shock, a copy of the sketches of Yugiri and Gosetsu I had made when we searched for the two Domans in Kugane. Never had I thought Amadeus to be this much the sentimental type, to keep such an item. It was flattering, needless to say.

Appropriately so for their occupation, the space was multicultural, even featuring a few items from the First, though I noticed a distinct trend towards Ul’dahn and Hingan influences in their decor. Now I found it little wonder that the hero found it unnecessary to purchase a larger estate: the utility and comfort of this humble apartment perfectly complemented their needs.

I was about to sit on the couch when I noticed Alisaie making her way up to the loft. 

“Sister, do you truly intend to snoop on them so?” I suggested, the hint of a tease in my voice, though a part of me was also concerned that the adventurer might take offense to such an invasion of privacy.

“I’m not snooping! I’m…” Alisaie struggled to justify herself, and apparently became distracted before she could finish crafting her excuse.

“What is it?” I asked, my own curiosity getting the better of me. I delicately picked my way up the stairs, which had no safety railing to speak of, unlike the loft itself.

The upper area was just as cozy and inviting as the rest of the apartment. To my left I could see an enormous aquarium and a kotatsu, as well as a practical Immortal Flames-issue cot and various other items.

In front of me, meanwhile, was an armoire, a kimono hanger… and a collection of miscellaneous items perched atop a moogle-shaped rug which could only be described as “cute”, including sofa cushions and plush creatures.

What Alisaie was most interested in, however, was the fact that there were a number of well kept wind-up minions and even a few pets inhabiting the area. This included a rather familiar mammet that she had grasped in her hands, a mischievous grin on her face.

“To think that they kept it…” I regarded the miniature me, a flush crawling up my neck to my eartips. The doll was a gift dating back to the beginnings of our travels with Estinien, searching for the elusive Ysayle. However, I was comforted when I spotted a tiny Alisaie, and pointed this out to my sister with no small amount of glee. Her face went coral pink, and I had to stifle a chuckle.

I sat down against a few of the soft cushions as I watched my sister inspecting the mammets before she eventually shrugged and headed back downstairs. I followed, and the two of us settled onto the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

Y’shtola and G’raha were still inspecting the books. G’raha had been set upon by the gaelikitten that Alisaie had found napping under the kotatsu. It was nibbling on him, presumably rather aggressively based on how violently his ears were twitching. However, they perked when the door creaked open and the Warrior of Light entered the room.

“My friends!” Amadeus exclaimed, a note of surprise stealing into their voice. 

Their eyes fell upon the tiny terror atop G’raha’s head, and in a few long strides they were in front of the Seeker. They swiftly extracted the flying feline from him, accompanied by a few sharp words.

“Moko! You know better than to maul guests!” they chided. The flying feline swiped at them half-heartedly before floating up to sit on a railing, looking rather put off.

“Moko?” Y’shtola inquired.

“Ah, yes. I got home one day from harvesting a large load of moko grass and left it on the floor while I went about some other errand. When I returned, my newly adopted gaelikitten had made themselves thoroughly at home in the middle of the pile,” they explained, before their expression grew serious. “Yet you did not come here to listen to such tales. Give me a half a bell and I’ll be ready.”

Somehow I had not realized how different Amadeus looked, dressed in the garb of smallfolk, an embroidery hoop dangling loosely at their side. In short, they were garbed not for their typical escapades, but for casual tasks. The mundane Amadeus, insofar as one could ever consider them as such.

They thought… they thought we were here solely seeking their help. For another emergency. Another task. And they were ready to drop everything to aid us, apparently at all hours of the day, even when they were occupied by something resembling the life of a normal Ul’dahn citizen.

It struck me how wrong that felt. We, who were supposed to be not just allies, but friends, family even… for them to feel so bound to the call of duty that it was presumed the natural justification for our visit defied the depths of our bonds.

“Believe it or not, we wanted to pay you a social call,” I declared pointedly. 

Their eyes widened, and for just a moment I was taken aback to see a flurry of emotions flicker in them... relief, confusion, astonishment, affection. 

“I… I see.” For a moment they looked away from us, almost as if they were internally retreating from the conversation. I could see them hugging themselves, fingers set with minutely increasing pressure on their forearms before they forced their shoulders and bearing to loosen. “Please... make yourself at home. I will prepare refreshments.”

After asking after our preferences, they set a kettle of water onto the stove and turned on the siphon brewer on the counter as we engaged in idle chatting. In the meantime, they began preparing some manner of snack, which turned out to be delicate finger sandwiches and pastry fish.

They carefully moved the incensory off the side table near where we sat before placing down a cup, saucer, plate, and utensils for each of us. They appeared to have been made or purchased separately, since none of the sets matched one another.

“So this is the abode of the famous Warrior of Light.” G’raha glanced somewhat shyly over the rim of his cup at the adventurer where they sat on the tatami mat, back leaned casually against the wall with a mug of coffee in one hand. “A finer sanctuary I could not find.”

“I am glad you find it so,” Amadeus responded. “It took some time to make enough gil to outfit it to my specifications… though I do so enjoy supporting my fellow artisans.”

Before I could inquire as to what they meant by “fellow artisans”, one of the mammets on the upper level toppled down. It had apparently managed to wander into one of the openings between railings and pillar and tottered precariously at the edge of the loft before it fell. I uttered a cry of warning, and Amadeus moved like greased lightning. It seemed a trifle to them to intercept the little toy’s fall before it could be seriously damaged.

It turned out to be the wind-up Exarch that had taken a dive. Amadeus examined the miniature closely and frowned.

“Forgive me, I need but a moment.” Amadeus stood and in a whirling instant they were carrying a goldsmith’s hammer at their side instead of their weaver’s gear. They sat back down, placing the Mystel gently on their lap before they began to repair wear and tear I couldn’t even see. 

“I didn’t know you were a goldsmith,” Alisaie commented in awe.

“Actually… I’m a practitioner of a variety of disciplines,” Amadeus replied. “I wouldn’t call myself a master, but the various skills I’ve learned allow me to get by in most situations.”

“Get by? According to reports I’ve seen in The Raven, your skills in botany alone are among the greatest in the realm at large,” Y’shtola chuckled. “Everywhere I’ve bothered to stop and listen, someone or another is raving about how you’ve become the pride of their organization. I’ve heard more than a few arguments about which guild claims the most patronage from your name.”

“Well… that is…” 

“And what’s this I’ve heard about your starring role in a dance troupe?” Y’shtola’s lips took on a slightly mischievous curve as she sipped at her tea. The rest of us glanced at one another with eyes wide.

“I had gone to view a performance in Limsa by Troupe Falsiam, and was scouted by Mistress Nashmeira. I’m not wont to pass up such an opportunity, especially since the Kriegstanz has great utility in battle. Ever since I began studying the discipline my movements as a whole have become more fluid and graceful. I’d be willing to demonstrate once I’m finished with this.”

Having now completed the repairs, they took out a lavender kerchief and some sort of scented solution and dutifully cleaned the minion. Lifting it to eye-level, they lightly tapped their forehead to that of the replica, apparently oblivious to the flustered squirming of the doll’s real-world counterpart in the seat beside them.

“Do try to be more careful, will you?” I was certain that their sweet tone and gesture were well on their way to making poor G’raha’s heart explode with affection, judging by the way his fluffed tail shot straight up behind him. I was also convinced that this event would be the main topic of conversation as soon as we four were out of earshot of Amadeus, which was certain to have a similar effect upon the poor Seeker’s composure.

After returning the mini Mystel to the upper reaches of the apartment, Amadeus returned to stand in the middle of the floor, just underneath the chandelier, where there was ample room for movement. They took a few moments to stretch before they transformed once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Now here was a side to the hero I definitely had not seen coming.

Amadeus Mac’hina was rather exotic-looking to begin with. Tall and tan, with thick dark hair, mismatched eyes shaped like a lion’s, and a peculiar golden mark on their face, they turned heads… whenever they were intending to draw attention, that is, since they disappeared into crowds remarkably well. 

It would be harder to miss them in their current guise, however. 

Their rich ruby red garments were layered and brocaded, including, most strikingly, a feathered turban with a veil which obscured most of their face. Amadeus normally shied away from heavy head coverings of any kind, so the difference was profound. Their eyes searched our gazes piercingly from under the headdress. 

The garb, meanwhile, while relatively modest, hugged their trim physique in a most flattering fashion. Overall, the effect of the outfit was one of intrigue, building upon the already mysterious aura of the wearer.

Tapping over to the orchestrion, they selected a track to dance to, a rousing tune resounding with the clapping of hands and strumming of a guitar. They began, somehow weaving in their fluid movements a tale, though I could not well articulate its depths. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, much as I desired to see the reactions of my fellows. 

When they had completed their whirling narrative, we broke out into applause. They smiled behind the veil and were preparing to change back to a more subdued gearset when Alisaie suddenly reached towards them.

They froze as she stood up, gently yet firmly grasping their arm with both hands, examining every ilm of their form with an air of sorrow. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a pained grimace flicker across G’raha Tia’s features.

The scars.

They had always hid them, somehow, whether by their bearing or by obscuring cloth I could not well recall. Fine lines zig-zagged across the adventurer’s bulky arms and shoulders. In their current garments, one could clearly see the remnants of several wide gashes on their back and sides.

What most caught my attention, however, was a peculiar structure that fell nearly parallel to their collarbone and emanated from the center of their chest to their arms. It branched out like a tree, with tendrils spanning out across their skin, fingers of light against the dark canvas of their skin… Twelve have mercy.

“So it did leave its mark,” Alisaie whispered, her eyes brimming with emotion. Amadeus lowered their gaze. 

Not once when they were containing the Lightwardens’ power did they complain, though the toll it took upon them became painfully clear over time. It seemed they now bore a permanent reminder of the ordeal.

“Amadeus?” Y’shtola’s voice pierced the silence.

“Well, you did warn me as much, right, Y’shtola?” they said with an attempt at cheer. “I figure I got off light, considering.”

Alisaie snatched her hands away, a look of half-feigned disgust in her countenance. “Amadeus, that was terrible.”

“What did I- oh.” They smiled, realization glittering in their eyes. “The pun wasn’t intentional, I swear,” they chuckled.

“I almost wish it was, with the expression it got out of my dear sister,” I teased, which earned a withering glare from her.

“Look on the bright side, Alisaie…” G’raha began.

“Don’t you even start!” Alisaie whirled to chastise him.

Even Y’shtola was starting to laugh now, so Alisaie huffed dramatically and allowed herself a giggle or two.

“...Thank you,” Amadeus murmured after the chortling had died down and they had changed into more casual wear.

“Whatever for?” G’raha exclaimed.

“Going out of your way to visit me, even when you’ve pressing matters to attend to.”

“You constitute a pressing matter,” Y’shtola declared without hesitation.

Their eyes widened in surprise and they began to protest, but the sorceress was far from done with her lecture.

“Hero of Eorzea, Savior of Ishgard, Liberator of Doma and Ala Mhigo, Warrior of Light, Warrior of Darkness… and Champion of the Scions. Yet not least of all, you are our friend, Amadeus. You cannot well expect us to watch you relieve the Exarch here of his self-sacrificing tendencies and then simply stand back while you impale yourself on your own.” She smiled, a softness weaving its way through her knowing smirk. “If you take care of us, we will take care of you, like it or not.”

“Y’shtola…” Amadeus brought their hand to their chest as they watched the Seeker’s expression intently. I realized now that they were tracing at their scar unconsciously. Such a small detail, and yet so terribly important. I cursed myself silently for never having noticed before.

“That being said… how about actually eating that neglected sandwich?” Y’shtola suggested.


	5. Chapter 5

After some further mothering from Y’shtola, conversation turned to the contents of the room once more.

“I must say... I’ve been wondering since I walked in. Who are the two depicted in this portrait?” I gestured towards the framed image of a rather dapper Hyur man and Miqo'te lady that hung near my drawing of our Doman friends.

“That would be Inspector Extraordinaire Hildibrand Manderville and his assistant Nashu Mhakaracca,” they answered, a hint of a laugh wending its way into their voice. “Even with all of my traveling, I think I can safely say my adventures with them have been some of my most outlandish.”

“Manderville? As in Godbert Manderville, member of the Syndicate?!” My surprise only increased as they nodded. 

“Yes, I happen to be... well-acquainted with the family.” Their expression was both fond and conflicted. “It might not be inaccurate to say I was more or less adopted.”

“I shudder to think what you mean by outlandish,” Alisaie remarked.

“Regular logic is of no use when it comes to the Mandervilles, especially Hildy,” the adventurer chuckled, though the phrasing was so ominous as to sound like a warning. “But he is one of the most well-intentioned people I have ever met,” they added, as if to soften the impact of their last statement.

They animatedly described their first meeting, which left my head spinning with disbelief. Y’shtola, meanwhile, seemed unfazed, while G’raha and Alisaie exchanged completely perplexed looks. I decided not to pursue the subject further. Thankfully, G’raha seemed predictably intent upon learning as much as he could regarding his surroundings.

“What of the ink painting here? It is quite beautiful.” 

“This is a depiction of the Four Lords. Tataru must never have told you about that particular escapade. Perhaps that was a mercy.” They gave me a pointed look as they spoke.

“Oh?” I gulped.

“The purpose of our trip was to replenish the Scions’ coffers after your reacquisition of Gosetsu’s blade.”

“I shall indeed count myself lucky that I was not drafted for that mission,” I replied, breathing a sigh of relief while simultaneously trying not to recall the other consequences I had faced from that particular blunder. There had always been an unspoken understanding about Tataru’s authority, but it was amplified threefold after my torturous punishment.

“Who are these Four Lords you speak of?” Alisaie pressed, blessedly too distracted by the notion of a compelling narrative to jab at me.

Amadeus filled us in on the auspices’ legends and more tangible history, as ever a wonderful storyteller. Even more than the Four Lords, however, they seemed keen to talk about Soroban, and to what extent they could, the hero Tenzen. 

“They are both of them truly heroic,” they finished affectionately.

“Not unlike a certain individual we know,” Alisaie quipped.

“It is one thing to do something deemed heroic. It is entirely something else to witness such an act.” This time Amadeus shot a teasing glance in G’raha’s direction. “I should think at least the noble Exarch would have some experience in regards to that revelation… indeed, all of you should. Or are not the Scions the stoutest allies of the realm?”

“Two realms,” Y’shtola reminded them.

“To one, bringing the light of dawn… to the other the dark of night…” G’raha mused.

“The night… the night!” Amadeus’ eyes suddenly locked on one of the dark windows, before examining their chronometer. “I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten. Surely you all must be tired.”

“It would behoove us all to get some rest,” I agreed.

“‘Tis a shame to cut our visit so short…” Y’shtola murmured.

“You are more than welcome here, if you find the accommodations satisfactory,” Amadeus offered immediately. “I’ve only one spare futon myself, but I’m certain we have ample supplies around the guild house. If not, I insist on escorting you to the nearest inn…”

“This should more than suffice!” G’raha exclaimed.

“If it’s good enough for the Warrior of Light, I don’t see how it could be anything less for us.” Alisaie folded her arms and gave a cheeky grin.

Amadeus smiled softly, and excused themselves so they could acquire the bedding. 

As soon as they exited, my fellows began discussing the wind-up Mystel, just as I expected. Y’shtola was also more than happy to poke at my sister and the Exarch’s eagerness to linger, which made me wonder if she had planned this all along. I wouldn’t put it past her to plot this with Tataru…

The door creaked open, and the muffled sound of music and laughter followed for a brief moment as Amadeus entered with a thick bundle of blankets, pillows, and other miscellaneous bedding under each arm. 

“My Free Company companions are having an impromptu party in the bar,” they elucidated.

“Are we keeping you?” I took some of the load to ease their burden.

“No, no. I am lucky to be in a group of great merry-making.” They allowed Alisaie to take the rest of the load. “There will be other parties." 

With some coordination and a little rearrangement of some of the furniture, we were able to lay out four comfortable sleeping spots: G’raha under the kotatsu, Alisaie on the moogle rug, myself in the painting nook, and Y’shtola on the couch. We left the couch uncovered so we could sit together for a while longer.

Amadeus replaced the candle in the incense burner and settled down once more. “With that settled… shall I tell a few more tales?”


End file.
